


Dean Winchester has no Control over his Mouth

by suckerfordeansfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, American Football, Castiel embarrasses himself, Castiel has the worst Soulmate-Identifying Mark ever, Castiel is of Legal Age, Changing POV, Dean Has No Filter, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Dean Winchester is bad with words, Dean is of Legal Age, Dean swears a lot, Dressing Room, Embarrassed Dean Winchester, First Meetings, Human Castiel, M/M, Sassy Castiel, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers?, They play football
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 01:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11840748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckerfordeansfreckles/pseuds/suckerfordeansfreckles
Summary: Dean has had a huge crush on one of the members of the opposing football team.When he finally gets a chance to talk to the guy alone, he finds Castiel is in a very embarrassing situation and can’t help but blurt out the first thing he’s thinking. And it pretty much goes downhill from there, up until he finds out the blue-eyed guy is more than just a stranger to him.





	Dean Winchester has no Control over his Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> A week ago, a good friend and I had a talk about fanfiction. When I told her about my interest in unusual soulmate-aus (for example: swear words or obscene sentences tattooed to your skin) we decided to give each other a soulmate-sentence and write a fic with it. 
> 
> And because she's such a sweetheart, she gave me this one: “This situation right here is what I usually masturbate to.” Of course, I had to turn it a little more innocent just because she doesn't deserve any smut :D

Dean is running off the football field, helmet in his hand, damp hair sticking to his head. It hadn’t been a particularly good game today, but they had still beaten their rival college’s team, which is what’s important when it comes down to it. His entire team is still celebrating their success on the field, but Dean feels sweaty and disgusting and altogether just isn’t in the mood for all of this pretentious crap, so he’s heading to the dressing room to take a shower. It had taken him some time to untangle himself from his teammates’ way too enthusiastic group hug, though.

 

If he has to be honest, him rushing to reach the showers is mainly motivated by his hope to cross paths with one of the guys from the other team. Since they all already left to shower and get changed immediately after the game ended, it’s possible that number 5, with his incredibly blue eyes, is still around. Dean has had a silly crush on the guy since… probably since the first time they’ve come close enough to each other on the field for Dean to actually see the man’s face. He doesn’t even know his name, but he’s been having embarrassing fantasies about him for months. 

 

In his defense, number 5 is ridiculously attractive; tousled dark hair, shining cobalt blue eyes, fucking amazing cheekbones and those legs, Dean could talk about them for hours. The whole football equipment doesn’t look bad on him, either.

 

Dean has spent countless nights thinking about how to start a conversation with the gorgeous guy, but he has never actually dared to make a move and talk to him. See, the problem is Dean’s soulmate tattoo. It’s on his left forearm, prominent black words on pale skin. “Oh, so you are the person that made my life a living hell.” Ever since the mark appeared on his skin, he has been scared about meeting his soulmate and finding out just what he had done to them. It got him to the point of being afraid to start a conversation with new people.

 

Dean is actually super careful about what he says, how he talks to, and about, others and especially how he approaches strangers. He has never insulted, let alone bullied, anyone; he actually gets along with everyone he knows. But you could say that he has lost so much sleep over his tattoo, that he’s practically overthinking every single conversation he has these days, because you can never know who barges in and listens to one of your sentences.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel has tried to give his best during today’s game, but his team has lost nevertheless. Thanks to his coach, who had threatened to assign him a seat on the bench for god knows how long if he doesn’t up his game today, he’s been running as fast as never before. His legs are already quivering and all he can think about is going home and spending the rest of the day in a horizontal position without having to move again. But at least his coach has been satisfied with his performance and had actually acknowledged his efforts.

 

Cas took some extra time on the field to let his team retreat to the showers first, and grabs his duffel bag to walk into the building about 15 minutes later. The reason for him to let them go first is that he’s pretty embarrassed about how he’s currently more waddling than walking. His legs hurt like shit and he really doesn’t need his teammates to make fun of him on top of that. 

 

When Castiel enters the dressing room, all of his teammates have already finished and there’s only one man left, who is currently putting his shoes on. Cas dumps his bag on the bench across from the showers, grabs his towel and throws it over one of the shower rods. Hoping that the warm water is going to soothe his aching muscles, he’s quick to pull his shoes and clothes off, grab a shampoo bottle and finally close the shower curtain behind himself.

 

It’s only been about two minutes when he first starts to feel his legs getting weaker, but he ignores the feeling in favor of enjoying the refreshing shower.

 

Considering all of the signs, what comes next really shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. When he tries to turn his body to face away from the steady stream of water and towards the shower curtain, he slips on the soapy tiles of the shower. Immediately, his thighs give in and his legs are not helpful at all in trying to prevent a fall.

 

He scrambles to catch himself from crashing to the floor by holding onto the shower curtain, the only thing separating him from a room full of god knows how many members of the local football team.  
This, of course, only makes matters worse- and Castiel has nobody but himself to blame for that. Naturally, the old, plastic shower curtain isn’t able to support the weight of a full-grown, well-trained, nineteen-year-old football player. 

 

The curtain rips from the rod, Cas loses his grip on it, crashes on the floor of the dressing room and is basically visible to anyone who might be in there. He lands on his knees, butt-naked, the curtain on the tiles next to his knees.

 

And because the whole situation isn’t already embarrassing enough, Cas finds himself eye-to… well, eye-to-crotch with a guy. A guy who has apparently been in the middle of undressing, considering that all he’s wearing are tight, green boxers. Fuck, he really doesn’t want to take a look at the face of whoever’s crotch he’s currently staring at. Instead of checking who he’s kneeling in front of, he starts grabbing for the shower curtain and quickly scans the room. Okay, at least this guy’s the only witness to the shit-show that is his life.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Dean’s pretty sure that his brain simply collapses as soon as it takes in the full glory of number 5- fuck, he should really find out what his name is- naked, tan skin wet from head to toe, dark hair damp, blue eyes wide and on his fucking knees, right in front of his crotch.

 

That’s the only reasonable explanation for the thought he’s about to voice out loud. The last thing he registers before the words practically shoot out of his mouth, without any kind of permission of his brain, is that the guy is apparently scrambling to grab the shower curtain to cover himself.

 

“This situation right here is what I usually masturbate to,” he chuckles. And fuck, he could slap himself right in the face for that sentence. Way to make a good first impression, Winchester.

 

The man in front of him stares at him with wide eyes for about five seconds, huffs out a breath and answers in a completely calm and serious voice. “Oh, so you are the person that made my life a living hell.”

 

It only takes a few seconds and a quick glance at the guy’s exposed wrist for him to figure it out. Shit. SHIT! Well, at least he finally knows what exactly went wrong. The one time he lets his dick talk… and his soulmate has to live with its words tattooed on his arm. Wonderful, the guy’s parents probably hate him. The guy himself probably hates him. Fuck.

 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry! I’m usually so careful with what I say to people!! I know, um. I know this is stupid and, honestly, I’d get it if you hate me and all that, but… I’ve been waiting to meet you for so long and now I fucked it up, dammit.” At this point, he’s straight up rambling, but he can’t stop himself either. “Maybe I could try and make it up to you? I um, I know a place that serves the best apple pie ever. Well, it’s like two blocks away. I could drive us there- If you want, that is.” 

 

He doesn’t even need to see the grin on number 5’s face to realize that, on top of his embarrassing rambling, his face had turned scarlet red. He brings his hand to his neck and tries his hardest not to let his eyes wander from the face they are currently locked on to stare at his soulmates exposed body.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Damn, the man looks adorable with a blush. Not that he wouldn’t look good without it; broad shoulders, toned tummy, plush lips, spiky blond hair, freckles and amazing green eyes. And he seems genuinely embarrassed about what he said earlier in the heat of the moment… maybe he deserves a chance?

 

“Honestly, I’ve always wanted to get to know the person that would throw a line like that at someone they don’t know at all. So, yes. Let’s go get some pie.” He gets up from his kneeling position, looking way more confident than he feels, turns around, leaves the shower curtain on the floor and reaches for his towel. If he happens to push his butt into the other man’s direction a little more than what would be necessary- well, it isn’t as if he hasn’t already seen him in all his naked glory anyways. When Cas turns back around, lower body finally wrapped in his towel, he raises his hand. “Castiel Novak, by the way.”

 

“Awesome!” The guy shakes his hand with a shy smile. “Um, Dean Winchester. I’m just gonna take a quick shower, change and we can go- if that’s alright?”

 

“Okay. I’m going to finally put on some clothes. You know, to spare myself further embarrassing situations,” Cas laughs.

 

“Just so you know, I wouldn’t mind it if you’d decide to spend some more time walking around naked!” With a cheeky grin, he pulls his boxer shorts down, winks at Cas and saunters off to take a shower.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> Every comment and kudos makes my day :) 
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://suckerfordeansfreckles.tumblr.com)  
> I'd love to talk to you!!


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